Lost Illusions
by Penelope Clemence
Summary: S2 Finale AU. The journey to Acre to save King Richard ends with the necessity to face harsh reality instead of daydreams. Disillusionment is a painful experience for one to bear. Nothing is sadder than the death of an illusion.


_This is a long one-shot about Robin Hood and his friends in the Holy Land._

_In this AU, the journey to Acre to save King Richard ends with the necessity to face harsh reality instead of daydreams. The king's mistake might have a high price, and disillusionment is a painful experience for one to bear. Nothing is sadder than the death of an illusion._

_Undoubtedly and unfortunately, I don't own any characters and the show._

_Hope you will enjoy the story._

_Any reviews are welcome. Constructive criticism is always welcome._

* * *

**Lost Illusions**

The last of the sun's golden-red beams faded over the city of Acre, and the king's men lit torches which glowed deplorably in twilight. Lady Marian Fitzwalter of Knighton stood near one of the tents in the middle of the Crusaders' camp, looking in a dark distance, her eyes wandering across the monotonous, exasperating landscape – the sandy dunes and the stone walls of Acre.

Marian looked solemn and somber; inside she was devastated and crestfallen. Her heart pounded in frantic thuds as she remembered the tragedy in Acre, still unwilling to believe that it was real. Before she was forced to travel to Acre, she had been fascinated with numerous tales about the Holy Land and mystified about the miracles associated with the place, but now she hated Acre with all her heart.

She inhaled and exhaled, breathing the cooled air in and out. Tragedy and dread were in the air; with every breath she took, she felt as if she were trying to revive life in the lands of death and bloodshed, among deadly ashes of life. She imagined that death was stalking her, and she could almost hear ominous rhythm of a funeral liturgy somewhere in a distance. The voyage in this land broke her heart into many small pieces, with only one piece still whole and untouched, but even it could be broken soon if someone, whom she loved so much, lost the fight with the most vicious enemy – death.

Marian felt a touch of death on her skin, in the air, under her feet on the sand, and even in the halo of the setting sun that was turning the yellow sand into colors of human blood. A fever of death crept into her very marrow and her blood, wracking her spirit and her soul. Every time she closed her eyes, she imagined the crimson curtains of blood separating reality and unreality, life and death – the present and the deaths of many innocent people in the desert because of the king's mistake.

The young blonde Crusader approached the lady from the back, running his eyes over her figure as she stood in all her tragic glory, shining with the light of a goddess from every part of her body. For a moment, the man was so fascinated by her that he couldn't breathe and his heart was pounding harder. She was the most extraordinary woman in the world, and Robin Hood was a lucky man to have her at his feet, Sir Carter Leighton of Stretton thought.

Dressed in a long white dress, her dark hair streaming down her back, Marian was beautiful in her deep mourning. When he had met her in Nottingham for the first time and had tried to kill Robin Hood, she had been beautiful, fearless, strong, stubborn, and brave. But now Marian was different – she was strong and magnificent in her grief, but Carter sensed vulnerability in her demeanor, in her posture, and in her eyes that were staring at the horizon and contemplating the sunset that was mysteriously dying away.

Suddenly, Marian turned around and glanced at Carter with her large, expressive, sapphire blue eyes. Her eyes were distant, so bright and clear in the mourning gloom of her face, and he could see that she was sizzled by the intensity of her pain beneath the veil of her mental trance. Despite the fact that she had spent much time under the blazing sun, she didn't have many skin burns on her face; there was only slight reddening on her cheeks.

"Carter," the lady said slowly, forcing every world to come out.

"How are you, Marian?" the Crusader asked, his expression grim.

Marian of Knighton shrugged eloquently. "It might be worse."

Cater sighed. "Are there any changes… in Robin's condition?"

Their gazes met, and he found the deep vulnerability there he had never seen in her before. Grief changed Marian, but she still was stoic, struggling not to crumble completely for the sake of Robin and for her own sake.

Marian shook her head. "No."

Marian shut her eyes, then lowered her head. A feeling of utter devastation swept over her, as powerful and narcotic as opium, and she only wished to go to her tent and lay on the hard, narrow bunk near Robin's bed, for she was so exhausted with worry and so affected by the profound losses that she barely stood on her feet, with her lids lowering despite her best efforts to stay awake.

Carter placed a hand on Marian's forearm, trying to comfort her as much as he could. But there was nothing he could do for Marian, except for his moral support. Those whose souls God took from Earth to Heaven could never come back. He himself was in shock from what had happened in Acre yesterday. Never, even in his wildest dreams, had he imagined that they would be in such a dire situation. It was a nightmare, and the only thing that Marian and Carter craved was to open their eyes and see that the tragedy was only a horrible dream, a figment of their sick imagination.

And yet, the yesterday's tragic events were real. There had been another regicide attempt on King Richard's life in Acre, when he had been supposed to meet with Saladin, although in reality he had naively walked into the trap set for him by Sheriff Vaisey and Guy of Gisborne. King Richard wasn't destined to die in Acre – he had been saved by Carter who had arrived in the meeting place of the king with fake Saladin in time. Richard had survived, but other people paid a high price for the king's mistake – the outlaws had died in the desert, while Robin was locked in a battle with death.

"Marian," Carter addressed her in a tender, caressing tone, "Robin is a fighter and a survivor. He won't die from a usual heatstroke. You will see that he will open his eyes soon."

Marian sighed heavily. "Carter, I pray that Robin… will survive." Her voice was tremulous. "God cannot be so cruel and take Robin from me… after I lost… everyone and everything."

Carter didn't know how to help her. Her stoic look impressed him a great deal and he respected Marian for that, but her pained, trembling voice went straight to his heart. He took her hand in his and squeezed it in an outburst of friendly affection. Marian smiled dolefully at Carter, her eyes full of gratitude; if he hadn't been always by her side, she wouldn't have known how to be among the king's guards whose only sight made her sick.

"I know that nothing I may say will be enough to console you. Everything that happened here yesterday seems unreal," he said, struggling to keep his voice steady. "And yet, you are not alone. Robin is alive, and he will live. He won't die in the Holy Land, and you will be together."

At the thought of Robin, Marian smiled brightly, and a warm glow spread across her features. "Robin is my life. If I… lose him, I don't know… what I will do."

"You won't lose him, Marian," Carter said with conviction.

"He cannot die… like they… died," she stammered.

Carter sighed, trying to collect himself; the situation unnerved him too much. "I am sorry that we were too late to save Robin, you, and your friends." He paused, his chest heavy with emotions. "By the time we arrived everyone had been dead, except for you and Robin." Another sigh followed. "There was nothing we could do for the others."

Marian chocked back a dark laugh. "Robin was almost dead when you came to release us. I was lucky to be only unconscious."

"Marian, Robin will live," Carter said, not knowing what else to say.

"Carter, you know that a heatstroke might be fatal if not properly and promptly treated. The king's personal physician isn't sure that Robin will pull through."

"I talked to the doctor yesterday and today." Carter's voice was thick with emotion. "He said that he did everything he could for Robin. Untreated heatstroke might damage heart and muscles, but Robin's case doesn't seem fatal, and he has a good chance for survival."

"He was badly burnt by the sun. I have never looked more terrible."

"The physician said that there won't be a long-lasting damage. Robin won't have any physical scars if he survives." He let out a sigh of frustration. "Only emotional scars."

"Robin," Marian said fervently. "Robin…" Tears sprang to her eyes and rolled down her cheeks as the pain she felt at the mere thought of his possible death struck her with a breathtaking, bittersweet sharpness. "Handsome, honest, ever-loyal, compassionate, strong Robin was betrayed by his own king, whom he loved and worshipped for so many years." She laughed with a laugh that disrobed all her heartache and pain, which threatened to suffocate her. "How will we tell Robin that all _his friends are dead because of the king's mistake_?"

Carter's face twisted with fury, and he clenched his fists. "I don't know what to say." He unclenched his fists; he lowered his voice, not wishing to attract attention of the king's guards to himself. "Treachery surrounds the king at every turn. Richard is an impulsive and temperamental man, and he was afraid that Robin had come to Acre to kill him."

A nervous laughter escaped her lips. "It doesn't matter whether the king is temperamental or not! He must have thought more before he ordered to execute Robin and others!"

"Marian, Sheriff Vaisey invented a convincing tale for King Richard. He heard that he would be betrayed by someone whom he trusted and loved, and he believed that Robin had to be a foul traitor. The king loves Robin very much, most of all among his knights, and the thought that Robin could have betrayed him sent him to the brink of madness. Anger blinded him, and he made a wrong decision."

She pushed a few locks of hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ears. "For the love of Heaven, Robin is not like other soldiers! This is Robin of all the men who served King Richard! Haven't Robin done enough for the king to deserve his trust and friendship?" The angry, hot blood washed through her heart, and she squeezed her fists tight to maintain control. "Robin nearly died when Gisborne tried to assassinate the king for the first time! He saved the king's life many times on the Crusade! He contributed so much to the capture of Acre by the English troops!"

"Marian, please speak more quietly."

Marian looked around, and her gaze locked with the eyes of two king's guards, who hurriedly glanced away; they were had served under Robin's command for many years before Robin's departure to England. They heard what Marian said to Carter, feeling ashamed and guilty.

Another young guard passed by Marian and Carter, and Marian met his gaze fiercely, her eyes burning with contempt and hatred, but he said nothing and hastened to leave.

When the outlaws had been delivered to the Crusaders' camp, Marian had been invited to a brief private audience with King Richard, and she had introduced herself as Lady Marian of Locksley, which had surprised everyone, especially the king. The rumor that Robin of Locksley's wife had nearly died in the desert was shocking to everyone. The king's men sympathized with Marian, understanding why she was so depressed – her husband's life – Robin's life – was hanging in balance.

When the king had commanded to assemble the men and execute Robin, nobody had dared interfere because Richard had been berserk with rage and the guards had feared the explosion of the infamous Angevin temper. The king's men had given Richard grim and amused glances, full of disbelief that their liege had ordered to execute Robin of Locksley, his beloved knight and favorite. But everyone had to obey the king's order, not wishing to defy Richard.

"No, I will speak what I think about the matter," Marian cried out. Her expression hardened as she swept her eyes over the king's camp. "Robin was the captain of the king's private guard for about five years. He led the king's men into many battles, and he always risked his own life for his king and his comrades." She smirked darkly. "And what did these people do for Robin? You, Carter, were the only one who defended him when the king declared him a traitor!"

The same two guards, whom Marian had spotted before, glanced away, pretending that they didn't hear anything. Many of Robin's former men felt guilty for their failure to defend Robin, and each of them was shocked with the outcome of the last regicide attempt.

In actuality, Robin was Richard's savior as he had warned the king about the danger. Yet, Robin and his friends had been accused of treason, and as a result everyone had died, except for Robin and Marian. The fact that Robin of all loyal knights – the king's close friend, chief general, and savior – became a victim of the king's mistake was outrageous. If Robin could be considered a wretched traitor only on the basis of hearsay, then everyone could be executed without solid proof of guilt.

"Marian, stop," Carter admonished. "We might be overheard."

Marian cast an apologetic glance at Carter. "I am sorry… It is just difficult."

Carter leaned closer to her. "It is difficult for everyone. Believe me that now Richard is not himself."

She sucked in her breath, and her lips stretched in a grimace. "But our friends are dead, and they died for nothing. And it won't return Robin's unconditional fealty to King Richard." She didn't think that Robin would be as loyal to Richard as he had been before.

§§§

Carter offered Marian his hand, and she took it with a tiny smile quivering in the corners of her lips. They walked to the tent where Robin rested. After King Richard, Carter, and his men had taken Robin and Marian to the English camp, Robin was placed into a spacious tent that had been previously occupied by Sir James of Lambton, the former captain of the king's private guard, who had turned out to be a traitor and had been killed in the battle. James' tent was the only free and comfortable tent in the camp.

Marian paused at the entrance; Carter stopped behind her. She swept her eyes over the tent. It was furnished well, not gaudily and with only a little ostentation. The furniture was elegantly exquisite: a huge bed stood in one corner, with small stools and two tables crowding the opposite part of the tent. There were many rich hangings on the walls of the tent, two huge Turkish rugs on the sandy ground, and a multitude of cushions of dazzling opalescent colors, which were scattered on one of the rugs near a low table. Several gilded pieces of furniture, some vases, and goblets completed the décor. The king's high favor of the former captain meant a lot for the quality of life in the Holy Land.

Sir Robin Fitzooth of Locksley, the Earl of Huntingdon and the Lord of Locksley, known as Robin Hood in England and as the brave Captain Locksley in the Holy Land, lay on the large wooden bed. His lithe form was covered with a white silk sheet up to his waist to prevent his body from heating up in the daytime. His face was badly burnt in the sun: there were numerous sunburns on his cheeks and his forehead, as well as on the exposed skin of his neck. He was a ghost of Robin Hood, an absolutely intolerable and devilishly charming creature that flashed cheeky smiles and shot witty barbs, entertaining or infuriating his companions. Now he looked like a shadow of his former self.

When Marian and Robin had been cut down from the poles by the king's men, they both had been unconscious, but Robin's condition had been already very dire. Robin had been exposed to high temperature for quite a long time, and, consequently, his body stopped cooling itself via perspiration, producing more heat than it could release. Presently, Robin was suffering from a severe heatstroke, which was a life threatening sickness.

The king's personal physician said that Robin had spent too long in the desert; the man was astounded that Robin hadn't died. Marian was lucky and was only unconscious because she had been under the scathing, slowly-killing sun for a shorter time – the sheriff had delivered her to Robin and the outlaws in an hour after the king's men had tied up Robin and the outlaws to the poles.

In the Crusaders' camp, Marian had regained her conscience in several hours, and her first thought had been about Robin. She had been given to drink a plenty of liquid, and the doctor had brought to her several bows of fresh water that had been somehow cooled especially for her. Marian spent the previous night and this morning near Robin, nursing him back to health. She was praying fervently for his survival, hoping that God would let her be happy with Robin on earth, for they still had a chance to be together, even if their friends were no longer a part of this world.

Marian seated herself on the edge of the bed. She touched Robin's cheek, and gasped for air. "Oh, my God! His skin is hotter than the sand heated by the rays of the blazing sun."

Carter settled in a high-back chair next to Robin's bed. "It is getting dark. It will be colder in the night, and it will cool off him a little more."

For a while, Carter and Marian sat in a compassionate silence, watching Robin and feeling united in their concern about the fate of the great man who didn't deserve to die because of the king's mistake and who would have to bear guilt of dragging his friends into the fatal mess until his dying day.

Carter of Stretton was barely able to contemplate the heartrending picture before his eyes. He sat rigid, his eyes cast down, thinking that he had to say something to improve their low spirits. "As soon as Robin feels better, we will enjoy his dry humor once again." He sighed, thinking that he was failing to lessen the tension. "When I joined the private guard, I heard that not only Saracens may kill a man. My comrades claimed that Captain Locksley may shoot a witty arrow at anyone, doing it cleanly, through the heart, giving immediate death to his rival." He smiled faintly. "But if he wants to have fun, he may choose to massacre anyone with his witty arrows, prolonging his victim's sufferings."

Marian smiled sadly. "He always wants to have fun, and his tongue is very poisonous."

Carter grinned. "It is sweet and poisonous at the same time."

"He has always been mischievous and cheeky." She took Robin's hand in hers and pressed it between her palms. "But this time there was no fun… in the adventure to save the king."

Carter leaned back in his seat. "The deaths of Robin's friends are the sheriff's fault and the king's fault." His voice was very quiet, for he didn't want someone to overhear them. "Every soldier knows about that, but they are silent – they fear the king's wrath and still respect the king. The king is their liege and commander, whether he makes serious mistakes or not."

Her eyes were blazing with anger. "And what does the king think of the situation?"

"The king has been solemn since you were delivered to the camp," Carter said in a tight voice. "Richard went to his tent and ordered his physician to give him a report about Robin and you every hour."

"How generous of him to be so worried about us," she mocked, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Richard fears to face Robin when Robin awakes. He definitely feels very uncomfortable."

Marian's eyes glittered dangerously. "The king's qualms of guilt won't return Much, Will, Djaq, Allan, and Little John back to life. They were strung up in the desert at the king's behest."

Every muscle in Carter's body tensed with pent-up anger at the king. "I know, Marian. The king's mistake led to a dreadful tragedy."

Marian laughed bitterly. "Do you think Robin will love and admire King Richard as much as he did before?" She shook her head. "If I know Robin well, and I do know him well, he will blame himself for the deaths of our friends until his dying day. I just wonder what he will say about the king."

"I think Robin will no longer love the king as much as he did, but he will be as loyal as he was," Carter opined, quite aware that Marian thought of the same. "Loyalty is in Robin's blood."

She nodded gravely. "Yes."

Robin of Locksley was fiercely fighting for his life. The goddess of death was knocking at his door, smiling at him and inviting him to take her hand and go to the underworld, but the goddess of life didn't want to let him go, looking at him with pleading eyes and whispering that it was not his time to die. There was inky darkness around Robin, and he tried to find his way to light, back to life.

There were only chaos and disorder in Robin's dreams. Unreality was almost indistinguishable from reality. Yet, some dreams seemed real, like the dream of exchanging marriage vows with Marian when they had been dying in the desert, with sobbing Much and his other friends acting as their witnesses. Slowly, with small and cautious steps, Robin made a feeble attempt to impose some small order on the complex chaos of thoughts and images, which were flashing and whirling in his mind. Then he found a thread, grabbed it, and followed it, making several steps ahead, away from death.

Robin stirred and shifted his body on the bed; a low moan tumbled from his lips. As Marian and Carter caught a glimpse of his movement, they looked back at him and relapsed into silence. For a moment, Robin wasn't moving, and Marian felt that she had to do something to wake him up.

"Robin, do you hear me?" Marian fixed her gaze at Robin's face. "Please come back to us."

Robin opened his strikingly pale blue eyes, staring at Marian's face, but he didn't see her – he couldn't see her as his head was spinning. He lay still for a long, long time, unaware of the swiftly passing time, his heart beating with thick, painful strokes, his turbulent thoughts churning wildly.

Robin tossed his head on the pillow, trying to remember the last events, but only misty memories, unclear words, and strange fragments of events were running through his inflamed mind, and all those pieces were slipping away whenever he tried to hold on. The images in his mind were shifting and unstable, one moment solid and then completely ambiguous. Slowly, very slowly, he came to the realization that for he was alive, although he was mystified about why he didn't die in the desert with Marian and his friends. Individual fragments of his memories finally coalesced in the stable whole.

Robin pressed his fingertips to his temples that began to throb painfully. "Where am I?" he rasped, gazing at Marian, his vision hazy like the fog enveloping the sea after a storm.

Marian tenderly traced the contours of Robin's face with her thumb; he winced in pain at the touch of her hand to his burns. "Robin, we are… in the king's camp," she informed him.

"Marian, you are here," Robin said under his breath. "How did we survive?"

"Yes," she answered. "You are having a heatstroke, but you will be… alright."

Robin recalled that Vaisey was in Acre, and he wanted to know about his liege's fate. "The king?" he asked in a husky voice.

Carter glanced at Marian, and as their eyes locked, they saw confusion and fear there.

Marian stiffened. "The king is alive." Her voice was edged with notes of anguish. It was not that she was unhappy with the king's survival, but she was mourning the loss of their friends.

"Very good," Robin whispered, relieved.

"Oh," she breathed.

Robin tried to focus his gaze at Marian, but he felt like swooning. "I cannot see you. I am falling."

"Handsome, you will feel better very soon," Marian said with deep concern. "I know that you are dizzy and weak at the moment, but you have awoken – you won't die."

Carter's eyes were filled with compassion. "Robin, you are not strong enough, but you will recover."

Robin recognized the male voice. "Carter?"

"Yes," Carter replied.

"Only give me a moment, and I will be quite alright." Robin tried to pull himself into a sitting position, but he became lightheaded in spite of lying on the bed. A sudden burst of vertigo and nausea wrenched a moan from him, and he reclined back on the pillows.

Marian placed her hands on his bare shoulders. "Robin, you need to rest. You have to stay bedridden."

"Marian, my love, don't leave me," Robin murmured with a dreamy smile on his face. He shut his eyes because everything was whirling around him, and he couldn't make it all slow down. "Yeah, it wasn't a great fun to have a rendezvous with death under the sun, but I don't complain. I thought that I would die a happy man with you by my side, but we survived and we are married."

His eyes closed, Robin clasped Marian's hands in his, and a look of melting tenderness lingered on his features. Warmth spread through her fingers at his touch, circulating through her body in strong waves of enormous relief. She lowered her head, looking at their joined hands, and a radiant smile lit up her face. Tears of both happiness and sadness trickled down her flushed cheeks: Robin was alive, but his old world was ruined, and she would have to tell him the truth soon.

Marian smiled at Robin's witty remark. "Yes, my love. We are alive and we are married."

"My love, I will never leave you again," Robin vowed in a weak but clear voice. "I swear I will never leave you like I did when I went to fight in the Holy Land years ago."

"Handsome, we are together forever," Marian murmured, her heart thundering in her chest. She was overwhelmed with delight, and she watched, fascinated, the rise and fall of his chest. All her happiness centered on her own hearth – her future with Robin."I will never let you go."

Robin grinned. "And I am not intending to leave you, at least until you decide to get rid of me."

Carter and Marian smiled, relieved that Robin was slowly becoming himself. Robin was really alive.

§§§

A slight breeze sprang up from the half-opened flap of the tent and swept the sand inside in some whimsical patterns that resembled transparent ghostly fingers. The breeze cleared the air and cooled off Robin's body; Robin was relieved that his skin no longer was so hot and so moist.

"You said that we are in the king's camp," Robin uttered, his eyes still closed. "Did the king realize that he was deceived and then commanded to release us?"

"Not exactly," Marian muttered.

Carter emitted a heavy sigh. "It is… complicated, Robin."

"Please, tell me… everything." Robin's voice was nearly begging.

"After the king had left you in the desert, I wanted to come and release all of you; I thought that we would save the king together," Carter began, sadness creeping into his voice. "I was on the way to you when I heard the clash of metal somewhere in the desert. I realized that the sheriff had already attacked the king." He let out a sigh, trying to regain some composure. "Then I… went to the place where the king was supposed to meet with Saladin. There was a battle not only with the imposter of the sultan, but also with two more Saracens, James of Lambton, Sheriff Vaisey, and Guy of Gisborne."

"James?" Robin vaguely remembered James coming to them to the desert with Vaisey.

"Yes. He was a traitor," Carter answered. "King Richard killed him in a fight."

"Another traitor is dead," Marian commented dryly.

"The king wasn't wounded, was he?" Robin was interested in his liege's health.

"Richard and I were unscratched," Carter stated.

Robin felt relief washing over him. "Excellent."

"After the fight was over, we went to… you," Carter finished his tale.

"Where are the sheriff and Gisborne?" Robin asked curiously. "Did they escape?" The sheriff was so cunning that he had no doubt that the vile man could have already sailed from Acre.

"The blockade in the harbor of Acre gave us nothing," Carter confirmed.

"This is what I thought." Robin opened his eyes, then immediately closed them again. It was foolish to try to see anything when he felt as if he were flying through the air.

"Robin, you need to rest," Marian said in an allaying tone.

"I am fine," Robin parried dismissively.

Robin was tranquillized by Marian's presence. The king was alive as well, and they were no longer in the desert, dying as innocent traitors. He had found Marian and had warned the king about the plot.

Robin was happy that he had survived, for he still had a chance to be happy with Marian in this life. Reunion in Heaven was a good thing, but not as pleasant and tempting as their life as a husband and a wife in Locksley. Now he would never leave Marian again. He would protect her no matter the cost, and he would always be with her. They were meant to be together; he was head over heels in love with her, and the light of his life was in her, in the lively sparkle of her sapphire eyes and the gentle lilt of her voice. Robin had almost lost Marian so many times, but he wasn't going to lose her again.

He was happy that he awoke with Marian holding his hand. But there was something that troubled him – it was the absence of Much. Much had told him once that he, Robin, was everything to him, and he knew that Much loved him with a primal devotion. But Much wasn't there, and with a sick feeling rising from the pit of his stomach, Robin began to realize that something was wrong.

Taking a deep breath and gritting his teeth, Robin voiced the question that troubled him so much. "Where is Much? Why is he not here?" He again opened his eyes, but he could see only the outlines of Marian's lovely face; the effect of heatstroke was too profound. "Did something… happen to him?"

Marian squeezed his hand. For a moment, she couldn't breathe, not knowing how to say the truth to Robin. She gazed down at him blankly, then, gripped by sudden intense grief, she glanced away.

"Robin, there is something you need to know," Carter began, his voice unusually soft.

There was a bad omen in Carter's words, which sent a shudder through Robin. "What?"

"Robin," Marian put her finger under his chin and tipped his head back, so she could look into his eyes if he found it difficult to see her clearly. "I am sorry… I am so sorry…" She had to reveal the truth to him, even if it meant exposing him to hideous pain.

Robin furrowed his brows. "But I am alive. Marian is alive, too."

Marian's eyes brimmed with tears. "Robin, we were lucky to survive – only you and me."

"We were too late," Carter forced the words to come out. "I am sorry, my friend."

Tears sprang to his eyes, and Robin dragged an agonizing breath, feeling mortal dread take possession of him. The news was horrible, and the pain in his heart blazed so hot. He felt as if he were falling into a dark abyss of despair, and a deep throbbing ache coursed through his core. He blinked his eyes, but Marian's face in front of him and everything else seemed to flicker, like a dying flame. He felt his own body and the bed beneath it tremble, as if his entire being was broken into tiny particles.

Robin's heart was like a large open wound. Hurt welled up in his chest, and Robin swallowed heavily. He didn't want to cry, and he could ward off the urge to release his grief in the flood of tears, even though he wasn't alone. Next moment, Robin began to weep for the loss of his friends because of the king's mistake; Marian and he survived, and the king was alive too, but it didn't bring relief to him.

"They are dead…" Robin whispered, barely able to speak.

"Yes," Marian said. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of Robin's shocked expression.

As a tide of black despair overcame him, Robin clutched Marian's hand as if it were a life preserver. "I would feel better if I were dead than alive." He was clinging to her hand more tightly, as if it was the last straw in an ocean of pain. "Forgive me, Marian. I failed to save you from the sheriff and Gisborne, and you were also brought to the desert. I failed to save my friends. I failed Robin Hood's cause."

Having turned around his words in her mind, Marian huffed in anger and annoyance. "Don't you dare say that you are better to die, Robin! One day you will pay to me for all your tricks and fun you love so much!" she cried out vehemently. "Think of me when you say such words! You are _everything to me_ – _you are my life and my world_! Or our vows mean nothing to you?"

Robin sighed as a twinge of guilt passed through his heart. "Marian, please forgive me." He stared at her with vacant eyes, as if his soul no longer resided in his body. "My love, you mean _everything to me – now more than everything_. I am never entirely alone simply because you are alive."

Marian smiled at him with a slow, content smile. Her heart glowed with gladness, for she knew that he had told her the truth. "I am also never alone while you live, Robin."

"But they are dead… This cannot be true. This cannot be true…" Robin repeated the words like a mantra. He wished only to block the truth from his mind, but he failed to push it away.

Marian gulped down tears. She dropped her eyes for a moment, looking down at Robin's body wracked by uncontrollable sobs. The pain Robin experienced shivered through her, but she didn't know how to help him. The only thing she could do was to stay with him and grieve over the deaths of their friends and the loss of his belief in the king together with him. God spared their lives and they still would be happy, although it would be a bittersweet ending for them as the loss was too great.

Fresh tears came to Marian's eyes and splashed her cheeks. "My love, I am… so sorry…" She traced her fingertips over his jaw line and his cheek. "They are gone, but we are together. I need you now more than I ever needed you before. You are the only hope in my life." She planted a light kiss on his hot forehead. "They are gone, but we are… together, handsome."

Robin gasped for breath, his voice hardly coming out at all. "Marian, my Marian…"

Tears flowed down her cheeks as Marian leaned above Robin, stroking the gorgeous mane of his sandy-colored hair. "We are together, Robin. We will survive and grieve together."

"And you have me, Robin." Tears stung Carter's eyes, for he felt Robin's pain as his own.

"Carter, my friend," Robin said in half a whisper.

"I won't leave you, Robin," Carter assured his distraught friend. He got to his feet and walked to the bed where Robin lay. "May I take a seat?" he asked, looking at Marian.

Marian nodded in affirmation. "Certainly."

Carter and Marian took Robin's hands in theirs, trying to give the heartbroken hero as much comfort as they could. Neither of them knew what Robin would do or say now.

The lump formed in Robin's throat, and he swallowed hard. "Where are… they… now?"

"They were buried in the area for the king's guards," Carter notified, his low voice full of guilt. "We had to bury them because in this climate bodies… You understand."

"How could it happen to lads?" Robin managed to whisper. Fresh tears seeped from between his lashes to roll down his cheeks. "How could it happen that I survived… while they all… died?" He gazed at Marian with glassy eyes, his expression so anguished that it made her shudder.

Marian bent her head down and placed her soothing hands at Robin's temples. She concentrated for a moment, letting stormy waves of her emotions quieten a little bit, and then she spoke. "Robin, our friends are… dead, but it is not your fault. Please, don't blame yourself."

Robin's face was a cameo of sheer grief. "It is my fault. I was Robin Hood, and my friends followed me because they believed in me," he contravened, his voice trembling. "I loved all of them so much, and they died because of me. I led them to their graves." The faintest hint of a plaintive smile curved his sensual mouth. "Now I have only you, Marian."

"Robin, I feel your pain," Marian whispered with emotion. "It is very tragic, but you and I are… alive…"

Robin took her hands in his; his calloused fingers entwined with hers. "What you feel, Marian, is nothing compared to what I feel now. I will never forgive myself for their deaths. I will mourn for them forever." He sighed heavily. "Their deaths are on my conscience, and this guilt will tear me apart until the day I die." He dropped her hands and reached out for his face, pressing his palms against his forehead, as if he were hoping to silence the whir of guilty thoughts in his head. "My friends were in the desert because I wanted to save the king at any cost, and they joined me in my mission. They fought for what I believed in, and they lost their lives."

There was an imprint of sorrow on Carter's countenance. "Forgive me, Robin."

"It is not your fault," Robin said.

Carter sighed. "When the king had ordered your execution and we left you in the desert, I decided to come back after the king's men were gone." He stopped speaking, gathering his strength to continue; his face was awry with pain. "I was so close to you when I heard the clash of metal. I knew that the king was in peril, but I was torn and didn't know what to do."

"And you went to the king," Robin inferred.

"Yes," Carter confirmed, feeling ashamed that he had to abandon Robin in the desert to save the king. "I swear that I wanted to come and save you, but the king's life was… in grave danger." He trailed off, trying to find the right words. "I planned to save the king and then return to you." His face contorted in anger. "The fight with the assassins, who attacked us after the imposter had been overpowered, took too much time. Gisborne and the sheriff fled after the fight was over; James was killed."

Robin inhaled sharply and silently sent a prayer chant for the deaths of the outlaws. "I don't blame you for your choices, Carter. You had to save the king, and you did the right thing that you chose to go to him at first." Feeling emotionally bereft, he half whispered under his breath, "I would have done the same if I were in your shoes." He felt Marian's hand tense, which even though already tight, tightened even further. "Unless I had to make a choice between Marian and the king," he added.

Carter gave Marian an ambiguous smile, then averted his gaze. It was not his place to comment on Robin's last words. He had never loved any woman, and he didn't know what choice he would make if he had to choose between the love of his life and the King of England.

Robin comprehended how difficult the moment should have been for Carter, for his friend was torn between his loyalty to King Richard and his loyalty to Robin. He didn't blame Carter for saving their liege, for he himself would have done everything to protect and save Richard, including giving his own life for the lion. Even now, when he was aware of the tragedy, he was still loyal to Richard, but his attitude towards the monarch changed drastically and his sentiments towards the man flipped-flopped.

He admired and loved King Richard since his early youth, and he had followed his royal idol to the Holy Land, leaving everything and everyone he had loved behind. He had firmly believed that he had been doing his duty to England and to his liege. He had left England heartbroken after Marian had broken their betrothal and had told him that she hadn't wanted to ever see him again. His convictions and his strong sense of duty to England and his king had seemed more important than his personal interests and his private life, and he had chosen his duty over his love for Marian.

On the first year of the Crusade, King Richard had noticed Robin among all his other knights thanks to Robin's outstanding fighting skills with a bow and a sword. Richard had liked Robin's personality at first glance: Robin had stood out from a mass of the king's men with his roguish, bright smiles and his light, overpowering charm. The king had become Robin's mentor and close friend, and Robin had been promoted to the position of captain of the king's private guard at the beginning of the second year of the Crusade. Richard had believed in his young protégé more than Robin had believed in himself, which had awakened in Robin his undying devotion to the Lionheart.

When they had been tied up to the poles, Robin had told everyone that it hadn't been the king's fault, blaming the sheriff for their misfortunes. Truth be told, he had lied to the outlaws, reluctantly and with a heavy heart, because he couldn't have acknowledged that the king was a fool to take the word of unknown fake emissary over Robin's word. It had hurt Robin deeply that Richard had forgotten about his heroic deeds which he had done for his liege during the Crusade. He still struggled to understand how Richard could have even admitted a thought that Robin had arrived in Acre to commit regicide.

Robin had already felt betrayed by King Richard when they had been waiting for their death in the desert. But presently, when he was aware of the extreme price of the king's mistake, everything was different. Robin didn't know what to say about the king, whose doubt in Robin's loyalty ultimately resulted in the deaths of his friends. Robin blamed the sheriff for the tragedy, but he also couldn't forgive Richard for sentencing all of them to a shameful death of traitors without credible evidence of their guilt. But most of all, Robin blamed himself, not even the king, for the deaths of the outlaws.

The king's mistake resulted in a great tragedy – the outlaws were dead and Robin was physically alive, but it would be wrong to say that Robin Hood – the spirit of England – survived. The deaths of the outlaws marked the end of Robin Hood and his merry men, who publicly defied the sheriff, stood against tyranny and oppression, and fought for England and King Richard.

Robin Hood's battle was a battle for absolute freedom and universal peace, but it was a lost battle because they fought for what they could never have in reality. King Richard killed the spirit of England with his stupid mistake. Robin Hood was dead, and so were his beliefs and principles. Robin Hood's cause was empty because King Richard wasn't worth of utter and unconditional loyalty Robin had pledged to him so many years ago.

Now Robin saw King Richard in a different light – the king no longer was a noble and chivalrous hero, the bravest warrior king in Christendom. Instead, he saw Richard as a human being and in true colors – the king who abandoned his people and who exhibited little interest in his responsibilities before his kingdom and nation. Richard could be the greatest military commander and one of the most educated men in the Angevin Empire, with his splendor and poetical tastes, but he didn't care for his people and could be unfair to those who served him well and with devotion. The image of glorious, just, and good King Richard was an illusion, and Robin had finally realized that.

Before the tragedy, Robin had lived with many illusions and dreams, but the latest events had changed his life: he was still longing to live an ideal life in an ideal world, but he no longer was going to pursue his ideals and waste his time on what he could never have. King Richard had often said that Robin was a naïve dreamer, but Robin had flashed his devil-may-care smiles and sheepish grins in response, banishing such thoughts from his mind. Ironically, Richard became the man who shattered the hopes and dreams of Robin Hood. The king destroyed Robin's world – the very man whom Robin loved and cherished had taken everything from him.

Robin was completely disillusioned. He considered the world unfair and cruel, and now he knew that there was nothing he would be able to do to change the world and people. He had tried so hard to make the world better in all ways he could, and he had fought for what he believed in, but he had failed despite all his efforts to succeed. The deaths of his friends made Robin realize, with a sickening clarity, that he had been fooling himself with the idea of universal equality and peace for so long. But his dreams and illusions were dead and buried in the desert.

It was painful for Robin to realize that his idealism and the idea of Robin Hood indirectly caused his friends. His beliefs about the world were unreal and were doomed to remain only dreams and illusions. His mission to save England was doomed to failure from the very beginning: he could save only some people and give others some hope for a better life, but it seemed that even hope was illusive, for it was an illusion that King Richard would save England from tyranny and Prince John.

Robin was a heartbroken, disappointed, and disillusioned idealist. There was no love left for the king in his heart – there was his deep and sincere love only for Marian and his pain, and he wanted to live only because Marian was alive. There was only mellow darkness flourishing in Robin's world, but there was a divine influx in this darkness – Marian was with him, and his love for her filled his entire world.

§§§

Robin held his breath, observing the bird fly inside the tent; he was able to see the bird even despite his lightheadedness. Neither Carter nor Marian had any time to say something because the bird flew out of the tent just in an instant, melting into the darkness as if it were a black shadow carrying with it Robin's ideals and some particles of eternal dust. In every flap of bird's wings, Robin saw the days of his old life and his ideals fading away into the darkness of the night.

Marian let out a slow measured breath and closed her eyes for a moment, attempting to regain her composure, trying to grasp the sense of the words that Robin had just pronounced. Did Robin mean that he would have saved her if he had to choose between the king and her? She looked amazed and creased her brow, as if she were searching for an answer to some mystery.

As if he were able to read Marian's mind, Robin spoke hastily, a passionate intensity coming into his voice. "I made too many mistakes in my life, Marian," he said deplorably, looking into her eyes. "I underestimated Vaisey's cunning and craft, and I… was too sure that King Richard would be more reasonable and would take my words as the only truth. These mistakes resulted in the deaths of innocent people." He sighed. "I nearly lost you in the desert, Marian. I should have never chosen my duty to the king over my love for you."

Carter felt uncomfortable to witness such a private exchange. All the more, he was still sitting on the edge of Robin's bed. He would leave soon – Marian would take care of Robin.

Marian looked fondly at her fiancé. He was so handsome even despite numerous sunburns on his cheeks, his jaw, and his forehead. "Robin… Robin…" A feeling of sweet longing for him stirred inside her and crashed gently around her heart. Strong emotions flooded her at the thought that Robin loved her more than he loved the king, which made her utterly happy and drove some of her sorrow away.

"I am sorry for your loss, Robin," Carter said sincerely. "I am mourning for your friends, too."

"Thank you, my friend," Robin murmured.

Carter coughed. "Robin, I will leave with your permission," he requested.

"Thank you… for being here… with us," Robin supplied.

Carter let out a small smile. "You are my friend, Robin. Remember that."

Robin sighed. "Thank you, Carter."

"What should I tell the king about you?" Carter inquired in a carefully controlled voice.

Robin hesitated for an instant. And then he sighed deeply, so deeply and so despondently that someone might think his heart had cracked in two halves. "Tell King Richard that Robin Hood is dead," he replied half contemptuously, half hatefully.

Marian tore her eyes from Robin and glanced at Carter. "Tell the king that Robin awoke. Nothing else." She smiled gratefully as she saw the compassion written all over Carter's face.

Carter nodded gravely, then swiftly climbed to his feet. Casting an anxious glance at Robin and then a compassionate glance at Marian, he stalked towards the exit from the tent.

"Carter," Robin called him.

Carter stopped and swung around. Staring at Robin, he arched his brow. "Yes, Robin?"

Robin looked between Marian and Carter, and then he focused his gaze at his beloved, his eyes penetrating too far into her thoughts in spite of his persistent dizziness and his general weakness. "At times, you must take part in a cruel battle, man against man, party against party, and spill a lot of blood – only to understand that it was all for nothing, that the fight was futile." He lowered his voice. "You wage war against the enemies of England, your king, and your people, and you think that you are doing the right thing. But over time this war makes you free of illusions, and you become weary, frustrated, and depleted."

"I understand you, Robin." Carter loved and respected the king, but he couldn't disagree that their liege was guilty of the outlaws' death. He wouldn't have wanted to be in Robin's shoes right now.

His grief made Robin philosophical. "It often happens that you put forth all your strength to win laurels for a powerful man, whom you consider your friend, but who is not worthy of your fealty and devotion." His heart constricted in his chest at the thought that the king had betrayed him. "And then this man sentences my friends and me to death in reward for everything I did for him." His eyes welled with tears, and he brushed them aside with a trembling hand. "The deaths of my friends are the price of my loyalty to the king, but this price is too high." He chocked a sob. "Too high," he repeated.

"Their deaths are… the extreme price of your loyalty to the king and England," Marian articulated between set teeth, tears shimmering in her eyes like diamonds. "But it is not your fault. You couldn't know that… the king would take someone's word over yours."

Robin shuddered as a new wave of pain assaulted him, twisting his insides into knots. "I am still loyal to King Richard and I will die for him if there is no other way to save him, but I will ever never be as close to him as I was before." Hot tears were streaming down his cheeks, each of these salty tears causing him slight pain as it scalded his sun-burnt skin. "The king is not England – the people are England. Robin Hood is dead. _I have no illusions left_."

"You are _disillusioned_," Carter commented, tears glittering in his eyes.

An eloquent pause followed. Marian and Carter waited for Robin to speak.

"Yes, I am," Robin confirmed. Suddenly, everything was clear in his mind as the ideals of the world faded away, and he was finally able to see both sides of Robin Hood's cause. "And yet, I still have some illusions left, for I still want to fight for the people of England and make their life better. I would sooner die than allow Vaisey and Gisborne to terrorize the populace; I will do something to stop them, but this time… I will demand desperate measures from the king." He clenched and unclenched his fists. "And I see now that utter loyalty to your liege has a reverse side."

At that moment, Robin hated his life, King Richard, Sheriff Vaisey, Guy of Gisborne, and even God that took the lives of his innocent friends. He also hated himself, his convictions and his choices. And yet, he knew that he would have never acted differently even if he had been granted another chance to change his life. Robin Hood was dead – he died in the desert together with Much, Will, Djaq, Allan, and Little John; yet, a small part of Robin's heart still belonged to his just but abstract cause.

Even now, when he realized that Robin Hood's cause was an invention of his mind, Robin still believed that he must fight for light and peace in the world, although this time his fight would be different – he would fight against Vaisey and Gisborne with the king's help, but he would fight for his people, not for Richard. Gisborne and Vaisey would get their retribution for high treason; he hated them with a burning, murderous hatred, and he would do everything to defeat the two traitors who had caused the deaths of their friends. A mighty hatred demands a mighty effort to serve justice, Robin thought.

Like Robin, Marian felt ripped apart, her tears freely rolled down her cheeks. "Robin, I am so… proud of you." She wanted to comfort him, and the only way she found was to say the sad truth – that she was proud of Robin in spite of their failure in Acre as he finally saw the bitter truths about the king.

"Robin, I will do everything for you. I will always be by your side," Carter avouched.

"I know, and I treasure it," Robin responded.

"Try to sleep, my friend," Carter recommended. Then he glided noiselessly out of the tent, intending to go to the royal tent and notify their liege that Robin had emerged from his slumber.

Robin shook his head, trying to dispose of the morose feelings that were tormenting him and rendering his life miserable. He remarked that his vision became almost perfect, and dizzy was gone. His disbelief in his friends' death morphed into his resignation with their deaths, although he was still agonizing over the tragedy. He was not Robin Hood and even not Robin of Locksley – he was only Robin.

Then Robin gazed into Marian's eyes and wiped a tear from her face with a thumb. Then he raised her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. "I am eternally indebted to God that your life was spared. I would have been unable to live if I was the only survivor in the desert."

"My love, my Robin," Marian whispered in a gentle tone, her eyes full of love for this man. "I love you so much." Her elegant hand brushed away tears from her cheeks with her palm.

Robin's eyes again filled with tears. "Marian, I love you, too."

Marian shifted on the bed closer to him, and Robin grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to him. With a groan, he sat in the bed, and then he wrapped his arm around her waist, luxuriating in the proximity to the only woman whom he had ever loved. He brushed her lips with his and kissed her ardently, and she winded her arms around his neck, kissing him back.

When they broke the kiss, they breathed heavily and held each other close. Robin's pale blue eyes locked with Marian's sapphire orbs, and they stared at one other as if they were mesmerized, feeling that their love was the most precious feeling in the world. Like a veil between two worlds, all mists fell heavy to the ground, and they understood that they were not simply Robin and Marian and not even two people in love, but the single soul because they had only each other after they had lost everything.

"Marian, forgive me for leaving you and for choosing the king over you," Robin murmured. His expression was melancholic, but his deep and overwhelming love for her was shining in his eyes.

"Shhh, my love," Marian crooned. She placed a light kiss on his lips. "There is nothing to forgive."

Robin pulled her closer, so close that she was plastered against his body, her breasts under her gown flattened on his wide bare chest. She was trapped in his arms, and he was sure that she could feel his hard manhood against her body. "Marian, I don't know what will happen now… when… the sheriff escaped and the king is still here." He sighed. "But I want you to marry me as soon as I completely recover. I want our souls to be joined in matrimony for eternity."

She smiled through tears, reveling in the warmth emanating from his body. "And who will give me away?" She didn't want the King of England to attend the wedding ceremony.

Robin figured out her thoughts. "I don't want the king to give you away. We don't need him."

She could feel the wide smile blossoming on her tear-stained face. "I will marry you even if I have to drag you to the church, Robin of Locksley."

He titled her head back slightly, so he could look deeply into her eyes. "Marian of Knighton, we cannot marry in the church in Locksley. Gisborne will be there." His expression hardened at the thought of the man who had stolen his lands and oppressed his people. "I think that we can marry in Acre."

She inclined her head in confirmation. "Carter can give me away, if he agrees to help us."

Robin gave a certain nod. "He will agree."

"Then we will marry in Acre," she stated resolutely.

"Yes," Robin said huskily. "No more plans. We will marry, and then… it will be as God wills."

Robin's senses hummed, and his desire for her erupted into a blaze of heated passion that darkened his eyes a shade. Robin brushed his mouth over hers, and his hands roamed her body reverently. He kissed her deeply, devouring and savoring her mouth with a heart-stirring passion and all-absorbing desperation, and her world centered on Robin and the incredible and intoxicating sensation of his lips on hers. She eagerly kissed him back, slightly and tentatively at first, then with a slowly building passion, her tears mingling with his, with the taste of him, salty and marvelous on her lips.

Robin was naked from the waist up, and Marian openly admired his lithe but muscular physique that inspired lust in the hearts of many women. She wasn't embarrassed to be in the arms of a naked man, and he in fact it seemed to really arouse her as desire simmered in her blood. She had already seen Robin without a shirt in Clun, when she had sewed the arrow wound on his forearm. Moreover, Marian had already seen Robin nude not once: they had consummated their relationship on the day of the siege of Nottingham by Prince John's troops, and later they had also had several clandestine rendezvous in the woods when Marian had shared with Robin information about the sheriff's new plans.

Robin broke the kiss and drew slightly from Marian, although she was trapped in his arms, feeling protected and safe. He was looking into her eyes, and her hands tangled in the mass of Robin's hair, and he pressed her tightly to him. His eyes were azure blue, so blue, that looking into them made her feel as though she were slipping beneath the sea. He skimmed his fingers through her long, dark, glossy hair, and his eyes flashed with golden glints of love and desire for her.

For a long moment, Marian was completely fascinated by Robin's eyes that were the mirror of his beautiful heart. Licking her lips, she broke eye contact and surveyed his body, and feminine pleasure and pride that he was hers filled her. His body was lean but powerful from constant training, the musculature of his shoulders firm, and his legs muscled from constant riding, running, and fighting. She ran her hands across Robin's slim shoulders and down his chest, moving her fingers gently across the dusting of sandy hair on his chest. Then Robin leaned forward and kissed her lips again.

Kissing Marian ardently, Robin ran his right hand down her back, across her bottom, and made his way down her leg and eventually under her skirt. His left hand cupped her breast and squeezed slightly, and he regretted that there a few layers of clothes – her gown – between them. Robin was kissing her, deep and delicious, feeling her arms wrap around him and pull him even closer. Marian was almost breathless and what his hands were doing to her, thinking that each of his kisses was like a searing flame shooting through her entire being. To Marian and Robin, being so close to each other was like coming home and finding forever all in one sweet and passionate touch.

Her hand covered the ugly, puckered scar on his left side, which was the reminder of the regicide attempt when Robin had saved the king despite being seriously injured. She caressed the scar as if she could make him feel better, and he didn't prohibit her from doing that. Marian thanked God that Robin had survived his wound from Gisborne's dagger and had come back to England and to her.

After a long, languorous moment of passion mingled with grief and sorrow, still entranced with his kiss, Marian slipped from Robin's embrace and lay next to him. They desperately wanted one another and craved to experience their love in every possible way; union of their bodies, minds, and souls. But it was neither time nor place to become one again, and they had to reign in their passions and impulses.

"Together we are stronger, my love," Marian told him, looking into his eyes.

Robin smiled weakly, looking at her. "You are my soulmate, and I will love you forever."

Marian sucked in her breath at the strong yearning she saw in his eyes, and she smiled back at him. "You are the lord of my heart, handsome. And nothing will ever change this."

Marian was Robin's home and his happiness. England and the king no longer stood between them. They failed to save their friends, they were betrayed by the king, they no longer had illusions, and reality was not what they liked at all, but they didn't die and their love was stronger than death. Robin was finally Marian's, and Marian was Robin's – they belonged to each other for eternity.

* * *

_I hope that you liked this story. _

_I know that it is tragic as Marian and Robin are the only people who survived the desert ordeal, but at least they have each other and Carter who will support them. Was it heartbreaking? What it really tragic? I think it was tragic to a great extent._

_I have long been interested what could have happened if Robin and the outlaws had died in the desert and King Richard survived. That's why I wrote a long and tragic one-shot "Price Of Loyalty". It is also interesting what could have happened if Robin had survived and the outlaws had died, which is why I wrote "Lost Illusions". In this one-shot, I tried to explore the AU when Robin failed to save his friends but survived, and the king was alive._

_Robin is an idealist, and it is a difficult task to change this. The outcome of regicide when Robin is the only one who survives in the desert creates an ideal situation when to make the hero completely disillusioned. It is one of the very few scenarios when Robin understands that his fight for justice is doomed to failure from the beginning because one man cannot change the whole world._

_Robin is bitterly disappointed in King Richard who murdered his friends because of hearsay. He will never be as close to the king as he once was, but he will be loyal to him. In spite of the king's faults, I cannot see Robin betraying Richard because loyal is in Robin's blood._

_Marian and Robin are broken and disillusioned. Now they have only each other and they will grieve together. Marian's survival is a balm to Robin's grief-stricken and bleeding heart. Robin has to face the complete wreckage of his idealistic world, and he cannot bear it alone – Marian becomes his saving grace. Generally, I believe more in Robin/Marian pairing than in Guy/Marian, and in this one-shot Marian must be shipped with the heartbroken hero to help him move on after a period of mourning._

_Marian's relations with Guy are out of scope in this plot. I think devoted fans of Guy shouldn't be angry with me because Guy is not dead: he escaped and he still has a chance to change himself and atone._

_So far, it is a long one-shot. Maybe one day I will continue this story, for I know that there are many interesting scenarios of Robin and Marian's life after the tragic deaths in Acre. And Guy and the sheriff escaped, so it might be interesting to see what Robin may do later._

_Thank you for reading his story. I would be very grateful for reviews._

_Your sincerely, Penelope Clemence_


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